


Fire

by cheshireArcher



Category: Julius Caesar - Shakespeare
Genre: Fire, Gen, Purgatory, referenced Cassportus, sort of a sequel to the Patron of the Suicides
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-27 14:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7622992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshireArcher/pseuds/cheshireArcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "The Patron of the Suicides." Porcia's journey to reclaim two lost souls begins with fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire

**Author's Note:**

> From a prompt from Tumblr user Sarlyne- Porcia and fire.  
> Also, I published this on my 22nd birthday! Go me.

Porcia poked at the dying embers, her hand shaking. Everything ached, her throat hurt but most of all her heart felt like it was gripped in a vise. She'd just woken from a restless sleep.

Two thousand years. It has been two thousand years since she'd poked at a fire, looking for coals to end her misery. Two thousand years since she'd last seen Marcus and Gaius. She'd tried to count the years but they slipped past her- the dead had no need of time. 

An indeterminate time after she'd entered the afterlife, a man had come to the cold, miserable place called Sheol, Tartarus, whatever. He was declared a king, and despite their hatred of kings, Porcia and her father had been enlisted to guard a new part of the afterlife. The world was reordered and her father said something about people who came through their division would eventually leave it- something that was impossible for those in the underworld. 

Porcia hadn't eaten any pomegranate seeds, so maybe she had a chance to get out. 

And that she had been given. 

Now she absently played with the things hanging around her neck- a charm fashioned like an old Roman instrument of execution and dog tags, which listed her name, her death, her sin, and her assignment. 

No longer was it Limbo. The name read "Purgatory." 

She poked at the dying fire some more, both needing the heat and fearing it. This was her curse, fire- always reminding of what she had taken from the people she loved. Her life had seemed so puny then, so destroyed by the loss of her father and her country and Marcus and Gaius. She'd given up while the last two were still alive. 

She'd had a lot of time to think this all over. Two thousand years of mulling over what she'd done and what she hadn't. 

Now she had a chance to set it right. She couldn't undo it- but she could take that thin sliver of time offered by the last war to save them. 

The world was being reordered again. 

Time. 

The dying fire. 

Porcia stared into the fire, reminded yet again of the pain. She did her best to shove it away from her mind. 

Marcus. 

Gaius. 

They were deep in the coldest part of Hell. She was where it was merely damp- the river at the beginning of Purgatory. The office full of infinite file cabinets with the details of people on their journey to get to the king. Things changed here, unlike in Hell. Every day prayers were sent up to Heaven to bring the dead closer to their goal. 

Maybe that's why she took the chance- she believed she could get them out. She'd been given evidence it was possible. 

They did what they thought they had to do. Especially Marcus. Sweet, idealistic, confused Marcus, who didn't want to shed blood. And the realistic, nervous, shrewd Gaius, who knew the true price. 

Porcia felt something else- her heart swelling with love. As this emotion arose, the fire finally started up. It offered something besides her death- warmth and light. 

She pulled out the piece of paper- a call for help from a man named Winston- and read it again in the weak light. After reading it three times, she was filled with the determination she hadn't felt back in Purgatory. 

She repacked her rucksack and stood up, slinging it over shoulder. The fire would no longer control her, she decided. She smothered it and left its smoldering remains behind. She knew exactly what she had to do.


End file.
